About two miles east of the Portage trail, we discovered near the edge of the bank, which was some ten feet above the lake, the remains of a human being.  The clothes of a man, in a good state of preservation, half covered the bleaching bones, the sad, sickening, unburied relics of some poor “shipwrecked brother,” who had here ended his voyage “o’er life’s stormy main.”  He had evidently chosen this spot where he could die looking off upon the lake, from whence no succor came, and where he could be easily discovered by the passer by.  A description was taken by one of our party of his clothes and the few articles found on them, and we learned on inquiring at Eagle river, that they were undoubtedly the remains of a Mr. Mathews, who got lost from the Algonquin mine a few weeks previous.  A brother of the deceased repaired to the spot as soon as possible and brought down the remains for burial at Eagle harbor.

The morning had not far advanced when a number of our party began to lag behind, exhausted from the effects of hunger and weakness, and it was evident that some would have to be left behind, while some of the others might possibly reach Eagle river that day and send assistance.  We confidently expected to find some provisions in a warehouse at Gratiot river, twelve miles from Eagle river, and all had hopes to reach there before night.  A few of our party pushed forward as fast as possible, to procure food and fires for those behind, but great was our disappointment not to find a particle of provisions at that place.

We kindled a fire, and rested for a few minutes, till a number of our party came up, the larger number being still far behind.  It now became more important than ever that some one should reach Eagle river, and seven of our number determined to make the trial.  We had now twelve miles further to go, and in our miserable condition we traveled but slowly, but the trail grew better as we proceeded, and we came in sight of Eagle River about four o’clock in the afternoon, and under the circumstances, a more pleasant, inviting village we do not recollect ever to have seen before.  Four or five of our party came through the same evening, and a few others of another party came in the next day with similar hardships.

On the Tuesday following, Capt.  McKay with the schooner Algonquin, proceeded to the wreck, and brought off the captain, crew, and remaining passengers, and all that could be saved of valuable property.

A JUNGLE RECOLLECTION.

The hot season of 1849 was peculiarly oppressive, and the irksome garrison duty, at Cherootabad, in the south of India, had for many months been unusually severe.  The colonel of my regiment, the brigadier, and the general, having successively acceded to my application for three weeks’ leave, and that welcome fact having been duly notified in orders, it was not long before I found myself on the Coimbatore road, snugly packed, guns and all, in a country bullock cart, lying at full length on a mattress, with a thick layer of straw spread under it.